Wilting Flower
by calmenex
Summary: Another Gintama one-shot only this time focusing on the lovable bad guy Takasugi S. And what may be the reason for why he hates the world.


The idea came to me a while after I wrote _Brother's Keeper_ but I've only now put it into words. This one-shot is more about the feels than humor, since I'm not good at putting feelings into words.  
It begins as Takasugi is first introduced so its episode 17 in the anime.

I don't own Gintama as you all know. Enjoy!

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 **Wilting flowers**

It was a festival to commemorate a ruler who none knew and yet people flocked together like sheep. They laugh. They play. They drink. They feast. They celebrate the man who is little more than a figurine.

Towards this, Takasugi Shinsuke felt nothing. Many believed he would be disgusted, irate, even feel betrayed. Yet as he watched the people of Edo make their merry way through the many stalls and attractions, his face kept expressionless. Not bored, not apathetic, not in denial, just...empty; like a bottle of sake that was once cherished for grand occasions, drunk slowly, bit by bit, until there was nothing left but a hollow pit.

And only when he spotted a familiar face did a small crazed spark light in his olive eye; Sakata Gintoki, the Shiroyasha.

Just like that, in the hollow bottle of sake the last drop of alcohol glinted. It was something that was usually forgotten and overlooked – like emotions of long dormant hate, fury and betrayal. Overlooked but present.

And when the masses cleared and he noticed the person standing beside Gintoki, wearing that all too familiar gentle smile, his heart plummeted. His pretence crumbled. Hate, fury and betrayal were replaced by a whirl of emotion so strong he could never hope to describe.

When she turned, as if knowing he was there and their eyes caught, the world stilled. Nothing else seemed to matter except the two of them like a pair drifting in a sea of strangers. She tilted her head with a smile and motioned for him to follow.

He shouldn't have been surprised. Of course seeing Gintoki came with seeing her – two inseparable siblings. His lips curled as he trailed after, watching her glide through the crowd like a dancer over her stage. Her long silver waves, looking much more cared for than her brother's, gathered into a loose up-do with a pin he had given her years ago. Her yukata, garnet colored to match her eyes, billowed as she walked. Much like before, it parted in the middle for practicality and she covered her legs with black trousers and boots similar to what he used to wear and her brother now does.

Unsurprisingly, they stopped at a dango stand. He kept from rolling his eye as they sat beside one another. The sweet tooth ran in her family and out of habit he placated it, ordering for them.

Takasugi took a long drag from his kiseru, something that had been a gift from her long ago. Then, she had joked that it was supposed to keep him busy while he waited for her or she was away. Something to occupy his thoughts, fingers and lips, she had said. It was back when neither of them knew just how often he would actually have to smoke.

She didn't ask why he was here but he explained it anyway; a tragic display of fireworks. His sarcasm ran thick because none of it was tragic. Even when the ruler of this country would die, Takasugi was sure that the world will move on. After all the shogun was just a figurine and the display would just be symbolic. The entree to a much larger scheme.

Despite his confident and humored disposition as he spoke, Takasugi didn't dare look her in the eye – afraid of what he would find. Sadness? Pity? Disappointment? Expressions he didn't want to be the cause of and his mind already whirled with ideas to soothe her.

But he didn't need to do anything. She crooned her neck to look him in the eye, not with pity but understanding. "It's fine – you'll be fine." Her lips parted into that all too familiar smile.

It was like a weight lifted from his shoulders – and finally he could bask in her tender warmth as if sitting before a campfire, his eye simmering. For a moment it was like the past ten years never happened. It felt as if they were still those young teens, so inexperienced but free with a full life ahead. So when she brought her lips to his forehead in a gentle kiss, he closed his eye to savor the moment.

A simple gesture that meant so much more than any words could.

Then she was gone and he left to find her brother.

-o-

The next time Takasugi sees her it was when his plans for the copied Benisakura finally took flight. He knew it would catch her attention because the sword was yet another thing that he connected with her. After all, the original sword belonged to her. Lost during the war was the rumor, but she had had it all along – even when they had first met; back when they were kids. How it came into her possession he didn't really know – it was a secret shared between the two siblings. 'It was given to her', was all she had said. And he had never inquired further. It didn't matter to him.

Not then, nor now as he stood staring upon the blood moon, feeling her gaze on his back.

"Don't do this." Her sweet whisper was enough to put kinks into his armor of steel. And he turned to face her as she approached – a stunning beauty as always. Her skin glowed in the moonlit night, looking more ethereal than ever.

What he wouldn't give to turn back time.

Instead like a parched man who had walked the deserts, he drank the image in. Because that was what he was; a man parched for her everything.

Ultimately it couldn't last. He closed his eye and let out a soft almost inaudible sigh. "I have to." He murmured, recollecting his resolve and disregarding the kinks she had made. Then, carefully he opened his eye and awaited her reaction.

While her gaze was dutifully trained on him, she lifted her hand to his cheek, softly grazing his skin. And at her gentle warmth he couldn't help but lean in. Just a bit longer – they both seemed to savor the moment, drinking their fill so they could pass through yet another desert.

"So be it."

-o-

Suspiciously he hadn't seen her since.

Not when the last copy was destroyed.

Not when the ordeal was done.

Not when the wounded were tended to.

Not when everything had settled.

It was because of this that his chest ached and despite never letting it be seen, doubt began to settle in his mind as it replayed the inexplicably haunting gaze Gintoki had trained on him during their encounter.

Why had he used her sword?

Why hadn't he used any other? There are hundreds of rumored swords.

His actions now felt like a mockery to their memory but he knew that there was no going back. He strayed too far. He had made his choice and she knew it too. So instead of waiting for her to come to him – he came to her.

There he stood now in a silent apology, knowing that it wouldn't change his actions, knowing that no matter what he wouldn't hear her words of forgiveness.

Takasugi let a lone tear trail down his cheek as he looked up at the clear blue sky, so contrary to the pit of his heart. It shone bright, past the branches of their old willow tree that used to shield them from the summer heat. Now however they looked so similar to prison bars separating him from the beauty above.

A part of him would like nothing more than to lay here and wither away until he could reunite with that familiar warmth but the other part of him knew that it wasn't yet the time. Not whilst his demons pull him back to the land of the living, unworthy of her tender beauty until he fulfilled his self-imposed duty.

So instead he replays their childhood memories; the way they laughed, joked, cried, played, confessed, fell in love – and lays her favorite flowers beneath their tree where her headstone lies. He wishes that when it's done she will once again envelope him in her loving warmth. And he prays for her understanding because he plans to destroy the world that had her wilt in his arms and his soul along with it.

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